Psuedo-Confession of the Sun Worshipper
Heartsick ripple
in the air.
Traversing long pauses,
I just shrink.
Obsession with the qualities.
Sorting out terrors, nights.
A wandering water-bearer,
a terrible government.
I shake the day
off, like lies.
Crucial horizon.
Walking was important—
to ward off the jumpiness,
the testiness, express
a certain ghostly check mark.
The woody hand-off,
the wizard-listening ....
When will our sun intervene
in these supermatters?
Unleash
our own slow leak
light.
N.W. Lea’s second book of poems, Understander (Chaudiere Books, 2015) was a finalist for the 2016 Archibald Lampman Award for Poetry. He currently lives and writes in Dawson City, Yukon with his partner and two cats.